Immortal Paladin

I opened my eyes to soft violet curtains swaying with a lazy breeze, sunlight filtering in through honeyed lattice windows, and the scent of sandalwood, jasmine, and too many people wearing perfume in close quarters.

The first thing I did was check my chest.

Still flat.

Still a dude.

Thank the Heavens.

And then I froze.

I was surrounded by women.

To be more accurate, fine women… The kind sculptors tried to capture in jade and never got quite right.

One had skin like polished amber and wore her hair in thick braids wrapped with golden rings. She was curled against my right side, her arm over my chest like she’d claimed it in the night.

Another woman, tall, dark, and elegant as a tower bell, lay to my left, draped in a sheer violet robe that barely hinted at the martial scars on her abdomen. Her legs had interlocked with mine at some point.

A third… blonde, curvy, and softer than a spring morning, was tucked under my arm, fingers loosely tangled in my shirt, her breath warm against my collarbone.

All of them were stunning.

Thankfully, they were all dressed. Though a few sashes had come undone and some of those collars were... adventurous.

I glanced up.

The ceiling was painted with blooming plum branches and silver clouds. Familiar. I’d seen it before.

Oh.

”The Purple Blossom.”

A famed leisure house in the Promised Dunes. High-end. Respectable. Renowned for offering not just physical comfort, but elegant companionship from tea ceremonies, poetry, zither music, and the gentle art of conversation. And yet, I was in a bed, surrounded by these women like some tragic romance novel protagonist who’d lost a war and fallen into a pile of warm pillows and emotional support.

“Dave…” I murmured.

No answer came.

So I did the usual.

Voice Chat: Activate!

”Dave. Mission report.”

There was a pause. Then, his voice echoed through my mind, smooth as ever, but with the tone of someone caught red-handed.

”My Lord. You’ve awakened.”

”Yes. In a bed. With six women.”

”Ah. Yes. A misunderstanding, I assure you. Nothing dishonorable occurred.”

”Start from the top.”

”Of course, My Lord. During your quest to help Disciple Lu Gao, I maintained a low profile for the first week. On your behalf, I entrusted Xue Xin with Lu Gao’s care. As for the rest of the Imperial Phoenix Guard, they had secured the establishment without a fuss, and Madam Yun had been cooperative.”

Madam Yun, the house matriarch?

”And the part where we ended in bed? I did ask you to take over and avoid being the subject of suspicion, but…”

”The Purple Blossom is considered a sacred site of emotional cultivation by the locals. It is where warriors come to mend their spirit, poets to refine their verse, and the lonely to feel... a little less so.”

I rubbed my face.

”What exactly did you do?”

”We came here under the premise of seeking balance… worldly pleasure to temper worldly burdens. Our story was set straight: you are a wandering sage from the far Empire, weary from battle and in search of peace. I held tea ceremonies with several of the Blossom Ladies, debated philosophy, praised a courtesan’s calligraphy, and complimented a warrior-poet on her swordsmanship.”

”And they all just... followed you into bed?”

”A sandstorm struck during the third evening. We were escorted to the guest pavilion for shelter. It is customary here, My Lord, to share warmth during stormy nights. The women insisted. To refuse would have been seen as an insult. I ensured all remained clothed. I even kept a Cleanse Spell repeatedly cast on my mind…” he coughed discreetly ”…to suppress any accidental… nocturnal disturbances.”

I stared at the elegant wooden wall across from me.

This man.

This bastard.

He’d created a legend of me as a wandering romantic philosopher and slept in the company of beautiful women without so much as holding a hand.

”So let me summarize: tea, poetry, weather-induced co-sleeping, and reputation management. A cuddle, is it?”

”Precisely, My Lord. And biscuits. Quite delightful ones, with a lavender glaze. I requested the recipe.”

One of the women stirred slightly beside me, mumbling something about starlight and “the gentle master.”

I was going to have a very awkward time explaining this if anyone I knew from my past life walked in. There were low chances of that happening, though.

”Anything else I should know?”

”Ah, yes. You’ve been invited to an informal moon-viewing banquet by Lady Huai and her circle. It seems our reputation has spread.”

Of course it had.

I closed my eyes again and let out a long, quiet sigh.

”Dave?”

”Yes, My Lord?”

”Next time you decide to build a reputation as a refined hedonist with a heart of gold… at least warn me first.”

”Of course, My Lord. Shall I begin composing haikus in your name?”

”Dave. This isn’t Losten. There are no haikus here…”

”Yes, My Lord?”

”Shut up.”

”As you wish.”

No way I’d admit to it, but man... sometimes, I’d feel jealous of Dave...

I used Flash Step to leap past the winding staircases and curtained halls of the Purple Blossom. A trail of distorted air shimmered behind me, my footing lighter than wind, yet leaving no trace. I followed with Zealot’s Stride, surging mana through my calves and ankles until every step rang like a drumbeat of purpose. The building blurred around me... velvet drapes, carved sandalwood, giggling attendants... none of it registered. My attention was already elsewhere.

I activated Divine Sense.

The world cracked open to me, a soft pulse echoing through reality. Qi signatures blossomed across my perception like ink drops in water. Familiar energies surged and fluttered through the building. There… hidden, subtle, and like embers in the dark… I found the Imperial Phoenix Guard.

I’d memorized their presence the first time: too disciplined and too still to be anything else. They were stationed outside, pretending to be drunkards, performers, and errand girls. One was even disguised as a flower vendor. Amateurs to the untrained eye. But to me?

Imperial watchdogs, cloaked in shadows, patrolled the perimeter like dogs sniffing out ghosts.

I kept moving.

As I turned into a hall of painted screens and glass lanterns, I passed Bai Zheme.

He stood tall in a pressed silk robe, but wore the silent readiness of someone expecting war before breakfast. His hand was near his belt, though there was no sword. He didn’t need to have one to begin with.

His gaze flicked to me and back ahead.

A nod.

Barely more than a twitch.

I returned it with equal enthusiasm. Which was to say, none.

Then came his voice, calm as a winter lake.

“Where to?”

I slowed just enough to let him fall in behind me.

“Looking for my disciple.”

He didn’t ask which one. He didn’t have to.

I stopped before a sliding paper door at the end of a quiet corridor. I felt her presence inside. Low heartbeat. Steady breathing. No danger. Just the muffled scent of warm blankets and herbal oil.

I slid the door open.

Xue Xin was inside, curled beneath a quilt embroidered with cranes and lotuses. Her long red hair spilled across the pillow like silk threads. She blinked up at me with soft confusion, the glow of sleep still in her eyes.

She smiled faintly.

“Sir Da Wei…?” she whispered, half-sitting up.

“Where’s Lu Gao?” I asked.

Her smile didn’t falter, but her expression did twitch, just slightly. She tilted her head.

“You mean Lu Ling, Sir Da Wei?” She looked toward the lump beside her under the blanket. “She was suffering from nightmares again. I held her so she would not feel afraid.”

I sighed.

I already had a bad feeling about this.

I stepped into the room and knelt by the edge of the futon. Xue Xin watched, concerned, as I reached out.

“Please don’t… she’s sleeping. She hasn’t rested in days. She…”

I pulled the blanket aside.

Underneath it, very much snoring and very much male, lay Lu Gao.

He had managed to curl into the fetal position, one arm tucked beneath his chin, lips parted in the dumbest sleep expression I’d seen in months. His hair was a mess, and he clutched what looked like a small plush fox someone must’ve given him.

Xue Xin’s face went blank.

Then pale.

Then red.

Then dangerous.

It was a colorful sight.

I watched the sequence with the detached horror of a bystander about to witness a righteous execution.

“…What?” she whispered. “That’s…”

Her eyes widened, then narrowed into sharp slits.

“That’s not Lu Ling. That’s…! That’s a man! That’s…he’s…”

She turned to me, hand clenching over her heart like she’d been tricked by the Heavens.

“Sir Da Wei,” she said through gritted teeth, “I failed you. I swear, I did not know. I thought I was protecting Lu Ling. But it seems…”

She stood abruptly, the blanket falling off her. She was already dressed in her inner armor, light silks wrapped under leather plating.

“It seems she… was kidnapped.”

“…That’s one way to interpret it,” I muttered.

She didn’t hear me. Or maybe she did, but she was too far gone. Already summoning a glowing saber from her Storage Ring, her spiritual aura bursting with cold, judicial fury.

The room trembled.

“Xue Xin,” I said, raising a hand. “Let’s take a moment…”

“No,” she said, voice like frostbite. “This pig dared to touch Lu Ling.”

“Uuuh… I think you are misunderstanding something…”

The blade hummed with power. Lu Gao stirred, as his eyes fluttered open.

He saw her.

Then saw the saber.

Lu Gao made a sound that was part whimper and part dying sheep.

“Wait… wait… Senior Sister?!”

Xue Xin didn’t hesitate. She charged.

“You deserve death, swine! I am not your Senior Sister!”

“SOMEONE HELP ME!!”

He scrambled. She pounced. I sighed. And Bai Zheme, still standing outside the door, calmly slid it shut with two fingers as he entered the room. “You want me to intervene?” he asked, hand touching his war fan.

I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall.

“...Let her get two hits in first.”

On second thought, I really shouldn’t let her land even a single hit.

Xue Xin was Seventh Realm. Lu Gao? What was he now, Fourth? Maybe fifth on a good day if he was high on confidence and lying to himself. The moment she dashed forward, her saber gleamed with genuine killing intent. She wasn’t joking. That wasn’t a slap-on-the-wrist swing. That was a “disgrace to the bloodline” type of cut.

But somehow…

CLANG!

The sound of metal meeting metal rang out like a thunderclap. And here I thought I had to intervene.

Lu Gao. No... The still sniffling and half-asleep Lu Gao had actually managed to parry the attack. He’d conjured a sword made from his Hollow Point technique. A glimmering purple haze flared into existence, deflecting the saber just inches from his face. The thing fizzled and cracked apart instantly, but it had done the job.

Even if it was a half-hearted strike on Xue Xin’s end, that was still impressive.

I blinked.

“Huh.”

“You dare…!” Xue Xin’s saber arced up again, already swinging down.

I moved.

In less than a heartbeat, I reached out and grabbed both of them by the back of their necks. One in each hand. It felt like lifting a saber spirit and a sack of potatoes.

Xue Xin froze in mid-air, feet dangling slightly.

Lu Gao yelped.

I held them up like misbehaving kids at a birthday party.

“Alright, enough,” I said. “We’re on a schedule, and I’d rather we not waste it murdering each other over blanket politics.”

Xue Xin’s eyes narrowed. “But, Sir Da Wei…!”

“It’s a misunderstanding,” I said flatly. “Lu Ling has always been a guy.”

She blinked.

I continued, “But due to a perverted skull fucker, he spent the past few days assuming a female shape.” I got to continue my conversation with that skull, but for now, I have to deal with these two. ”Something I dread will happen to me one day... gosh, I should’ve tortured the information out of that skull to tell me the activation conditions for the darn curse.”

I knew I would suffer the same curse, and I was confident I could dispel it with Judgment Severance. I never thought it would be dormant the second I returned to my main body. There was definitely some trick to it that would blindside me once the said ’curse’ suddenly kicked in. I have no desire to exterminate the skull, though, since I still have some use for it.

There was a beat of silence as Xue Xin muttered, “…Who is Skull Fucker?”

I sighed. “His name is Jue Bu. Old soul. Used to be someone important. Now he’s just mostly horny and extremely literate.”

Lu Gao, who was still suspended in my grip, suddenly sobbed.

“I missed you so much, Master…”

He squirmed upward, trying to press his face into my shoulder.

Ugh.

“Lu Gao,” I warned, “if you don’t get your snotty little face off of me right now, I swear on the Celestial Dao, I will kick you so hard your ancestors will think they gave birth to a cloud.”

He froze... and then sniffled.

Slowly, he leaned back his face off with a trembling lower lip.

“…Yes, Master.”

I dropped them both.

Xue Xin landed silently, adjusting her sleeves with martial dignity. Lu Gao collapsed like a sack of wet rice, wheezing.

I looked at both of them.

“Good,” I said. “Now get dressed. Eat something. We’ve got business to handle, and it doesn’t involve accidental nudity or sword-based therapy.”

Lu Gao nodded rapidly, still wiping tears from his face. ”Senior Xue... I am s-sorry...”

”Shut up,” Xue Xin bowed lightly. “As you command, Sir Da Wei.”

Wait a damn minute... I stared at Lu Gao and then at Xue Xin. Something happened between them during the time I was inside Lu Gao. Curious... Very curious, indeed.

Bai Zheme cleared his throat.

“If this is the usual morning routine, I’d like to request hazard pay.”

“Denied,” I said without missing a beat. “Go talk to the Emperor for that shit. I am not your boss. I am your eccentric charge who just happens to have too much power in his biceps.”

“What?” asked the confused Bai Zheme.

Time to get moving.

“Alright. Orders.”

They all turned toward me, still half-tensed from the earlier chaos.

“Xue Xin,” I said. “Get your girls ready and pack up our stuff. We’re leaving soon.”

She gave a slight bow. “As you will, Sir Da Wei.” The moment she turned, her tone changed, barking precise instructions like a general rallying troops in her Qi Speech. Her skill with Qi Speech was unexpectedly sloppy, her Qi bursting forth as she murmured to herself.

I turned to Lu Gao, who was still wiping crusted tears off his cheeks and sniffling like an abandoned puppy.

“Go look for Hei Yuan for me. He’s either at the local tavern or the local bookstore. Check both. Anyway, I am glad you are pretty much doing okay, Lu Gao. We’ll need to talk later, but for now, get Hei Yuan for me, okay?”

”Hei Yuan? You mean... Hei Yuan?” Lu Gao blinked. “Yessir, right away! Should I…”

“Don’t ask. Just move. Also help him with his task... This is a bit last minute, but you should be able to point us in the right direction to look for Alice and Joan.”

He ran off, tripped slightly, and hurried off.

I finally turned to Bai Zheme, who hadn’t said a word through the entire thing.

“Guard the door.”

He nodded once, noncommittal as always, and took up position just outside the sliding doors with the same stance he’d probably use while storming a fortress. He closed the door respectfully, leaving me by my lonesome. With the room cleared, I sat cross-legged in the center of the room, took a slow breath, and closed my eyes.

Time to meditate.

I let the mana in my body cycle through the Mana Road Cultivation technique. It was a method Lu Gao and me had developed using what I could glean from local traditions, combined with what felt natural to me. It worked… but obviously, it wasn’t perfect.

A setback in cultivation was, of course, normal, so no need to feel disheartened.

I searched for that feeling again, the stagnation. That annoying, tickling sense at the back of my soul that told me something was missing. I was still stuck in the Third Realm, and no amount of cycling, refining, or muttering encouraging words to my heart-dantian was going to change that.

What was I lacking?

And here I thought killing stuff would allow me to level up after I broke through the level cap by starting on my cultivation journey.

Clearly, it wouldn’t be so easy.

There was a piece missing. A crucial element I couldn’t identify.

I guess I’d assumed this whole cultivation thing would be easy. You know, like in the novels. Give the transmigrated guy some cheat abilities, drop him into a fantasy realm, and boom… he becomes a god.

Right?

Wrong.

Sure, I had better stats than anyone in this world, and I was abusing the hell out of them, but cultivation wasn’t a video game. Well, it kind of was, but it was a deeply unfair one with hidden mechanics, vague patch notes, and no customer support.

Lu Gao was already in the Fourth Realm. Not because he was a genius, but because he had actual cultivation experience. He fought tooth and nail to climb up. His foundation was solid, even if his brain wasn’t.

Gu Jie, on the other hand, had always been special. Her constitution gave her a head start, sure… but it was the Legacy she awakened that was carrying her higher. It seemed like she was doing some kind of dual cultivation without needing a partner, creating a spiritual harmony that let her break through again and again.

And then there was Ren Jingyi.

That girl was just a genius, plain and simple.

She started with an inferior method… Hollow Breathing Technique, something most sects wouldn’t even hand to their dogs, but she made it work. Not only that, she accumulated energy with such terrifying speed that she had surpassed Gu Jie and Lu Gao despite the difference in quality.

That wasn’t something you learned.

That was something you were.

And then there was... me.

Stuck. Spinning my mana in circles. I stared at a locked door and hoped it would open if I just jiggled the handle long enough.

I clenched my fists, slowly exhaled, and refocused.

Fine.

If I couldn’t break through with force, I’d out-think the damn system. Somewhere in the mess of this world’s cultivation lore, there had to be an answer. A reason why this path was stalling me. And when I found it, I’d tear the barrier apart. One breath at a time.